Oreos for Breakfast - Chapter 10
By The Paperbag Princess and The Pumpkin Coach

Corresponding KTBPA Message Board Posts (Fictional!)

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"Nick…" I called softly, opening the bathroom door.

He was asleep.

I pouted at him for a moment. Here I was, naked and willing, and he was sound asleep.

Then again, he'd had much more to drink that I had. My body was rejecting alcohol after the eight shots in half an hour incident the day before. He had no such problems, and I'd lost count of how many bizarre drinks he'd had as we wandered from casino to casino. The boys loved to torture the cocktail waitresses with weird orders. How many cocktail waitresses were going to be on our guest list tomorrow? Darien had to stop flirting with them.

Nick was so pretty when he was asleep. I loved just staring at the lines of his face, the shape of his nose and the curve of his gorgeous lips. I sat next to him on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair away from his face and he stirred, waving away my hand like I was bothering him.

Never mind then. He'd already kicked off his shoes, and I found a blanket in the closet, tucking it around him. He pulled it closer and rolled over, sighing. I considered crawling under the covers, but I was wide awake, and there would be no sex, given the way my boyfriend was snoring.

I ransacked his suitcase for a clean T-shirt and found my favorite pajama bottoms in a drawer. I never had a chance to wear them when he was around, usually. Maybe I'd give him back the T-shirt I'd stolen from him last time… nah. I loved wearing his clothes when he wasn't with me.

I kissed him quickly and went into the living room, where I could watch TV without waking him up, but before I could find the remote, I found my new guitar. Lola had sent all of our purchases on to the hotel while we went out partying, and I'd almost forgotten about it.

I sat on the couch, putting the case carefully on the coffee table in front of me. Of course he'd gotten me the gorgeous and expensive leather case when I wasn't paying attention, and I ran my hands over the design carefully, smiling to myself.

I shouldn't have let him buy this for me, I knew that. It was a lot of money, certainly more than I had available for an impulse purchase. But now it was my 'video at number six' guitar, and hopefully, no matter what happened, I could play it and remember this day, and how pleased and proud Nick was when our video was on the countdown.

I flipped open the case and threw my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh too loudly. He'd written his name and number and email a million times in the lid. When did he even have time to do that? I guess I was in the back for a while, helping Darien buy the perfect bongos.

Oh, this was too cute. How did he keep coming up with sweet things to do for me? Was he asking James or Lola for hints?

God knows he wasn't asking Jeremy. Jeremy had never been this wonderful. In four years, he hadn't done half of the sweet things Nick had done in just a few weeks. It wasn't just the presents, it was the way Nick looked at me, and told me all the time how beautiful I was. I never felt like Jeremy even saw me, I was just the girlfriend.

"you were never very kind/ and you let me way down every time…"

Ani's words sang through my head, and I smiled at myself, pulling the guitar out and strapping it on my body. I didn't need to write a break-up song for Jeremy, she'd already done it for me.

I strummed the guitar carefully, remembering the boys teasing me about it earlier this evening. They loved to tease me that one day I'd get an acoustic and join the Lilith Fair tour and renounce the band. I'd stopped defending the fact that Lilith Fair was not all about ethereal singer songwriters about three years ago. They knew that, it was just far more fun for them to tease me.

They'd started teasing Nick, just in the last couple of days. I loved that they were starting to treat him like one of us, and he took their ridicule well. I could only imagine what it must be like in the Backstreet camp.

I kept my hands on the guitar and stared at a corner of the room, letting my mind wander. Sometimes that worked, sometimes a melody would come to me, or a combination of words would turn into a lyric.

"I am walking
out in the rain
and I am listening to the low moan
of the dial tone again
and I am getting
nowhere with you
and I can't let it go
and I can't get through..."

Or it would be Ani again. This song had been in the back of my head all day, every time I looked at Jeremy. I picked out the chords carefully, singing along, hoping that maybe the song would leave me alone now and I could come up with one of my own.

"the old woman behind the pink curtains
and the closed door
on the first floor
she's listening through the air shaft
to see how long our swan song can last…"

Music woke me up, and I squinted into the darkness, trying to place it.

"and you were never a good lay
and you were never a good friend
but, oh, oh, what else can I say...
I adore you"

Rachel's voice, but not Rachel's song. Not one that I knew, anyway. She went on playing, singing along with a few 'oooh's and I rolled over, listening.

I was still dressed, on top of the covers. The last thing I remembered was lying down, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom.

Fuck. I fell asleep. But even that could not be the reason for this angry song, could it?

"…and I'll pretend that this is real
'cuz this is what I like best,
and you've been juggling two women
like a stupid circus clown
telling us both we are the one
and maybe you can keep me from ever being happy,
but you're not gonna stop me from having fun."

I liked the growl in her voice, and I found the door, squinting into the light to see her in the living room. She was on the couch, her head bent over her new guitar as she sang. I loved watching her on stage, but this was better, just a guitar and Rachel wearing my old T-shirt. She was amazing, my girlfriend. Gorgeous and sexy and fucking talented.

"so let's go before I change my mind
I'll leave the luggage of all your lies behind
'cuz I am bigger than everything that came before
and you were never very kind,
and you let me way down every time
but oh, oh, oh what can I say...
I adore you"

She lifted her head, and stopped playing when she saw me standing there.

"Don't," I said. "That was great, when did you write it?"

"I didn't," she admitted. "Ani DiFranco again."

I came into the room, sitting on the coffee table in front of her. "That's who you were playing in the music store earlier."

"Yeah," she nodded, looking down at her guitar and strumming a quiet chord. "I don't need to write break-up songs about Jeremy, she already did it for me. And better."

"Nah, no one's better than you, Rache."

She grinned at me. "Did I not make you buy any Ani that day in New York when I introduced you to chick rock?"

I shrugged. I had no idea. I'd tried… some of them were good.

"Did you listen to any of them, Nick?"

"Um…" Fuck. I should have known this day would come. I felt like this was a test I'd forgotten to study for. "Elastica was good."

She poked me with her toe, giggling. "You just listened to them because you thought you could dig up Damon dirt, you philistine. Women can rock, too! At least most of them sing on key!"

I grabbed her foot, tickling it and making her giggle more. "System of a Down is on key!"

"They are so not!" she protested in between giggles. She hated System of a Down, my favorite group of the moment. I never played them when she was around, but if they were on MTV, we'd watch the video only so she could complain about it. "Now stop or I'll hurt this pretty guitar you got me!"

I let her go, and she immediately tucked her feet under her so I couldn't get at them again. "Like the case?" I asked. I'd gotten the one she really wanted as a surprise.

She beamed at me. "When did you have time to scrawl your phone number all over it?"

Laughing, I opened up the case next to me. "You were doing something. It's a little messy, I did it quick."

"Story of your life," she teased, taking the guitar off and leaning over to kiss me. "You did not have to get me the good one, and now I can't return it."

"You could sell it for a fortune on EBay, I bet," I told her, and she laughed.

"Oooh, good plan," she agreed. "I could probably buy a couple new guitars with the proceeds."

I got up, looking around the room. "Do we have any food? I'm hungry."

She giggled again. "You're still drunk, aren't you?"

I looked at her for a moment, considering the question. "A little?" I offered, and she grinned, getting up and finding me the room service menu.

"You must be careful with my boys, they tend to think of drinking as a competitive sport."

I shrugged, looking at the menu. "I did okay, didn't I?"

"Until the part when you passed out on the bed instead of making love to me, sure," she teased, and I looked at her sheepishly.

"Sorry. We could do that instead, I'm not that hungry."

"No," she shook her head. "Let's order something and see how we feel."

I was feeling broody, I'd been singing break-up songs for the last hour or so while he was asleep. I wanted to snuggle up with my boyfriend and be silly for a little while. "They have fun snacks," I offered. "Popcorn in big buckets, with lots of butter."

"Oreos!" he exclaimed. "They have Oreos and milk! You like Oreos, you gave me one that first day we met."

"Second," I corrected him with a smile. "The next morning." I could barely believe he remembered. I remembered every detail of that meeting, it was so surreal.

"The next morning, whatever. Did I ever tell you I didn't even know your name then?"

"You didn't?" I squealed, and he shook his head.

"You never told me!" he defended. "I found out when I read the liner notes to your CD."

Alright, I didn't remember not telling him my name… "You could have asked."

"I tried. But I didn't want you to think I was a loser."

"You even cared what I thought?" I asked, and he pulled me over to him, tossing the room service menu over his shoulder.

"I thought you were so cute, Vending Machine Girl." He kissed my nose carefully. "I loved these freckles."

Was I grinning like a fool? I must be. He was so sweet. "I thought you had kind eyes, and an amazing smile." He flashed that smile at me now, and I had to kiss him. "You were dressed like an idiot, however," I teased, and he pouted at me. I stepped away from him before my further teasing got me tickled. "Dude, why do you pull your socks up to your knees? It looks stupid!"

He chased me, and I jumped up on the couch, giggling. "What am I supposed to do?" he whined. "Let them fall down?"

"Get shorter socks, doofus!" He caught me, but didn't tickle me, just grinned up at me.

"I was going to say some very sweet things, but now I might just have to tease you about your insane hair that night."

I whacked him. "Shut up. What sweet things?" It wasn't like I was planning on meeting pop stars, after all. I didn't really think I'd need to fix my hair to get a soda in the middle of the night.

He shook his head. "Just that I was so happy to see you the next morning. I meet a lot of people on the road and then never see them again. I'm glad you weren't one of them."

I kissed him, moved by his sweet words. "I was glad to see you again, too," I admitted. "Then you won me over with the seductive way you ate that Oreo." I grinned, remembering how I noticed his mouth for the first time then, and had wondered how his tongue might feel against mine. I knew now, and it was better that I ever could have imagined.

"Yeah, that wins them over every time," he joked. "Oreos."

I giggled. "Dork. Are we ordering Oreos, then?"

"Do they have vending machines? We have a million quarters, after all." I'd hit a couple of slot jackpots, but the line was too long to cash them in, so I just brought them up to the room.

"Aw… how sweet. Are we going to have to visit vending machines on all our anniversaries, sweetie?"

"Absolutely!" he asserted. "Let me change, these clothes are all wrinkled," he said, moving towards the bedroom.

"Like wrinkles have ever stopped you before?" I tossed at his back, and he flipped his middle finger at me.

"Shut up about my fashion sense!" he complained.

"What fashion sense?" I retorted, jumping off the couch to follow him.

He sighed, pulling off the rumpled shirt he'd fallen asleep in and reaching for a T-shirt from his suitcase. "Does this wife-beater meet your approval?"

"No!" I yelled, and he jumped back, surprised. "I fucking hate that term, it's horrible. Can't you just call it a tank top or something less fucking offensive?"

He looked down at the shirt he was now wearing, considering it. "I never thought about it before."

"I know!" I complained. "No one does. It's terrible. Call it a tank top and you can wear it."

"You sure?" he wondered, and I smiled, turning around to find our change.

"I like it. It shows off your tattoos. It's just the term, it so completely belittles domestic violence. And the shirts can be sexy, so it's making violence sexy, also totally not cool." I took a breath, about to rant on, but I caught his eyes in the mirror and had to laugh at the perplexed look on his face. "I'll stop with the feminist outrage now, bunny."

"Okay," he nodded, stepping out of his pants and pulling on a pair of shorts. "I might be too drunk to understand the feminist outrage."

"Just don't ever call it a 'wife-beater' in my presence again and we're good," I said, holding out my hand to him. "Let's go get some tasty treats."

He took my hand and led me to the door. "Will Darien be outraged that we're getting junk food? What's that, 'nutritionist outrage'?"

I grabbed a key and the ice bucket and followed him into the hallway, giggling. He was so good at making me giggle. "Don't let him know, or he'll tell you that you'll get fat, and then you won't be sing and jump around stage, blah blah blah. Or maybe that's just what he tells me."

"He tells you that? You? You're so skinny!" he demanded.

"Is that 'boyfriend outrage,' Nicky?" I teased, and he laughed.

"It just seems silly, that's all. I mean, the fellas tease me about getting fat, and I deserve it, but not you."

"You do not!" I protested. "Just because you're not built all skinny like Kevin doesn't mean you're fat."

He opened the door to the vending machine room and kissed me quickly. "I love you," he said, smiling at me.

"So, can we spend 20 bucks in quarters on junk food?" I challenged him, and he nodded. We did manage to spend about ten, but then hotel vending machines were always overpriced. Back in the room, I spread out the snacks on the coffee table while he made us drinks from the mini-bar. I suppose we could have raided the mini-bar for snacks, but that wouldn't have been as much fun. We watched videos and munched and finally I leaned back on the couch with a sigh. "Darien might be right. We shouldn't have eaten all that."

He flopped over, putting his head in my lap. I ran my fingers through his hair, making him shut his eyes with a contented sigh. "Mandy called me fat."

I hesitated a second before running my fingers through his hair again. There was something in his tone that told me he wasn't joking about that. Or that Willa wasn't joking when she'd done it, either.

Maybe he was drunk enough to have the Willa talk?

"She has the look of a woman who obsesses about her weight. And the weight of everyone around her."

He nodded. "She used to complain about dating the fat Backstreet Boy. Like she had a choice. The others hated her."

"And your family hated her."

"Mom couldn't stand her."

"Is that why you dated her? Because everyone told you not to?"

"Yeah. And the sex was good. We'd fight, then we'd have sex, and then we'd fight again."

"Not exactly the model of a healthy relationship." Not that I hadn't been there a time or two myself. "There had to have been something else, Nick. Some other reason that you stayed with her as long as you did."

He considered for a long moment. "I don't know, Rache. One day I woke up and she was living with me, and I was avoiding my own house. I never liked her. When I first saw her, I thought she was hot, but even then I never liked her. She just attached herself to me and convinced me that we belonged together. Or, better yet, that she and my money belonged together."

"Is all that National Enquirer stuff true? The stuff your mom said?" I'd found that article online, that he'd just moved out of his family's house and in with Willa without an explanation.

"Have you been doing research?" he smiled, opening his eyes.

I ran a finger over the lines of his face, tracing his eyebrows, his cheekbones, the slope of his nose. "Perhaps, yes. You won't answer my questions about her, after all," I teased, and he scowled at me.

"The National Enquirer thing is shockingly true. I was a shit and moved out without telling them why."

"Why, then?" I asked, continuing to stroke his face, and his eyes fluttered shut.

"Because I knew they'd tell me not to, and I didn't want to hear it."

"I could figure that bit out, bunny," I told him. Of course he didn't want to tell his parents. Jeremy and I had been living together for about six months before I told my parents. "Why did you move in with her?"

He sighed. "Because… because she told me it was over if I moved to California with them. That's what we were doing, I'd just bought a house for my family outside of L.A."

"So how long after that was it really over?"

He smiled, looking up at me. "A couple of months. When did you and Jeremy start living together?"

"Oh," I nodded. "Almost immediately. At first he moved in with James and me, to save on rent, then when I moved out of James' place, I moved in with Jeremy. It took a marriage proposal to kill Jeremy and me."

"I did that, too," he admitted. "That's what it really was."

We were quiet for a moment, and he let his eyes shut again as I played with his hair. "Tell me something nice about Willa. There had to be some reason that you stayed with her as long as you did." Right? It wasn't just the sex, was it? I'd hate to think he'd had such a shallow relationship.

Because we weren't shallow. Were we? No, we talked and played and hung out with the band, we didn't just have sex. Maybe this was just a fluke for him? Maybe it was good that I put him off as long as I did, it forced us to get to know each other. Because Nick the Backstreet Boy was easy enough to resist, but the pensive Nick lying in my lap right now was fascinating. I wanted to know everything about him and Willa, so I wouldn't do any of it.

He smiled a bit, considering. "She was funny. Really funny, she could always make me laugh. And… when she was happy, it was nice. It was nice to come home and know she'd be there. She was…" He sighed. "You said today, about you and Jeremy, that he was familiar. Mandy was like that to me. When I was on the road, and she was with me, it almost made me feel normal. Like, 'look, I have a girlfriend,' like regular people. I knew we shouldn't fight all the time, but just having her there was sometimes okay."

"What did you fight about?" I wondered. I could come up with a list, but I wasn't sure if they were true or not.

"Everything," he sighed. "Other girls looking at me, mostly. Management said it looked bad that I was in a relationship, so I couldn't exactly just ignore every girl who talked to me. I didn't want to, anyway. It's not like they were all throwing themselves at me."

"Some were," I pushed slightly. "You told me you cheated on her."

"I kept getting accused of it," he grumbled. "After a while, I figured 'why the fuck not?' I know that's stupid," he went on, looking up at me.

I shook my head. "Sorta. Not totally. If you couldn't convince her you were faithful, why keep up the pretense? Like, Jeremy was cheating on me and finally I did it back to him. Both you and I probably should have gotten out of those relationships first," I chastised, smiling at myself a bit. "But if you feel like you can't, better to make the best of a bad situation?"

He laughed. "Sounds like you did some rationalization there, Rache."

"Shut up!" I whacked him. "Perhaps a bit," I admitted. "But we've talked enough about me and Jeremy today. Back to Willa…"

He sighed. "Do I have to?"

I relented. "No. No need to get maudlin."

He grinned, pulling me down for a kiss. We broke apart slowly, and he reached up to touch my face. "I love you, Rache. This is so different from what I had with Mandy that I don't even know what to call that."

"It was still love, bunny," I said softly. "All my relationships have been completely different, too."

This one was by far the best. It had only been a few weeks, and no matter what happened, I'd never have a second of regret. I couldn't possibly.

He glanced over, looking at the TV. "Cool, man, I love this video." It was an animated video of a band in the middle of a desert, being attacked by mutant gorillas who could dance like Michael Jackson. "The animator, Jamie Hewlett, he does 'Tank Girl,' did you ever read that? It's cool. I forget the name of the band. Monkeys or something."

"Gorillaz," I told him. "With a 'z', 'coz they're from the street."

He looked up at me with a laugh. "More of your Backstreet research?"

That line was from a Ben Stiller sketch about the Backstreet Boyz. Ages ago. Some MTV awards show. I shook my head, looking at the TV. "Nope, I've been using that line for years. And I am completely positive that's why this band uses that 'z', because I told Jamie that joke a long time ago."

He sat up, looking at me. "You know Jamie Hewlett? Tank Girl Jamie Hewlett?"

Smiling, I shook my head at him. "I love that you know the animator and have no clue about who's in the band. That's Damon Albarn. My ex Damon. I thought you did all this research?" I teased.

He just blinked at me for a minute, then looked back at the TV. "But… Damon's in Blur! I know Blur, Em's husband is in Blur, they do that woo-hoo song!"

I patted his knee, smiling at his surprise. "You need to pay more attention to music that isn't top 40. Gorillaz is some little Damon artier than thou vanity project. That's not him rapping, he does the little musical bit. The good part."

He looked back at the TV, humming the melody to himself. The video faded away, and then suddenly Damon's actual face filled the entire screen, and I had to look away. Damn. I needed more caffeine, I hated how my stomach dropped seeing him staring out at me. Animated Damon was one thing, the Damon that I fell in love with, artfully lit by Em Evesham, was quite another.

"Em directed this one," I offered. "It's not the 'woo-hoo song'- which is actually called 'Song Two,' as it's the second track on that album, but same album. This one's called 'Beetlebum'." I loved this song, I remembered as it filled the room. I never listened to Blur any more, but I had loved them long before I ever met Damon Albarn.

"You look a little freaked out," he said, and I smiled at him.

"I'm not pining over him. Not any more, at least. It's just… that's how he looked when I met him, we supported them on the U.S. tour for this album. And it's Em, she makes everyone look amazing."

"I guess…" he considered the screen, "He has bad teeth."

I laughed. "He does. He's English, they have bad teeth. You sorta have the same hair," I considered, looking between Nick and the screen. They both had short hair that could be spiky and cute if they bothered with it. "You've both had bowl cuts, too." Not that I knew either of them at the time, but pictures of both cracked me up.

Nick leaned his head to one side, obviously trying to picture Damon with different hair, and I laughed at him. "It was very cute on both of you."

He smirked at me. "It was cuter on me, I bet."

I ruffled his hair. "Definitely. You're the cute on after all. Besides, you were half his age at the time."

"Was I? How old is he?"

Was he? I tried to do the math in my head and failed. "He's 31 now. 32? Older than me." Ten years between Damon and Nick. Wow.

"Do you not like boys your own age?" he teased.

"Well, the boy I had my own age was Jeremy. He may have ruined them for me."

"Did Damon ruin older men for you?"

"Older men that want babies, yes," I nodded, trying to joke, but Nick just studied me for a moment.

"What happened there, Rache?" he asked, his voice serious.

I considered Nick for a minute, he was honest about Willa earlier, wasn't he? It was only fair. "He wanted a baby more than he wanted me." That wasn't it. Not entirely. But it was 4 in the morning or something ungodly, and I didn't want to start thinking about it.

"But Kate Sutton told me that he had the baby and you still stayed with him," he said, then stopped himself, raising his eyebrows like maybe he'd said too much.

"She did, did she?" Katie was a terrible gossip. I didn't know her very well, but I'd had lunch with her and Em a few times, and she knew everything about everybody. I supposed I shouldn't be shocked that I was one of her gossip tidbits, as well.

"Yeah, she…" he started, and I realized something, cutting him off.

"When did she say this? How did she even know we were together? She was the one that told you to listen to Elastica, wasn't she?" I remembered him teasing me about Elastica and Katie in Boston.

"Well, we weren't really together at the time," he admitted, and I whacked him with a pillow from the couch.

"You called her and asked her for dirt on me, didn't you?"

He giggled, ducking away from me. "Emailed, but yeah. She knows everything, Rache. I just never cared before. I never knew any of the people she gossiped about before, all those British groups."

"You know Em," I countered.

"There is no gossip about Em," he said, shaking his head. "She's, like, perfect."

I cracked up. "Oh, sweetie, there is lots of gossip about Emmie."

"She's married and has a kid! There is no gossip."

"Hmm…" I pondered. "It might before your time, then. Was she with Alex when you met her?"

He shrugged. "She's always been with Alex, much to Kevin's disappointment."

"One of these days you will tell me all about Kevin and Em, but right now, I want to know what Katie told you about me!" I whined.

"Nothing, really. Just to listen to Elastica and that Damon got someone else pregnant and you stayed with him."

I sighed, leaning my head against the couch cushions and fighting the urge to close my eyes. I looked back up at Nick and he was studying me, "Yeah… that's pretty much it. I just… I hate to lose, Nick. I'd given up everything to move to London to be with him and I got there and it was all horrible, worse than I could have imagined. But if I came home, it would have been admitting defeat. So I stayed. Until…" I trailed off, but Nick finished my thought.

"Then your dad died." He moved closer to me, tucking a curl behind my ear gently and I fought the urge to cry. "I know that part."

"So you're all caught up, then." I forced a grin. Definitely too late to be thinking about Dad and feeling all maudlin. "All the pieces of my life, full circle. Jeremy, Damon, Dad, Jeremy again, briefly… and now this lovely younger man who adores me."

Smiling, he kissed me, cupping my face in his hands and moaning softly as I opened my mouth to him. I might be too tired now to ravish him properly, but I could sit here on the couch and kiss him for hours. I loved the feel of his soft lips on mine, his strong fingers stroking my cheekbones.

I pulled back from her slightly, my eyes still closed, and heard her whimper my name softly. Her voice was barely a whisper and I leaned back down, pressing my lips against hers again.

"I know, Rache," I whispered back, "It's nearly dawn and too late to be dragging you through it all. I'm sorry."

She pulled back and I looked down at her, "Don't be. I started it. Damned acoustic guitar makes me all sappy."

"Oh, it's a new Rachel… kinda looks like Rock Star Rachel, but not quite. Quieter."

"'Indie Folkie Rache?" she grinned up at me. "Does this one have a catch phrase?" She tried to tease me but a yawn escaped and ruined it.

I shook my head, jumping up and pulling her into my arms, "I don't think so. Not yet, anyway. But she's really cute when she's tired."

She leaned against me, letting me lead her into the bedroom, "I think I'm crashing from the sugar high, sweetie." She yawned again as I sat her on the bed and leaned down, pulling off her socks carefully.

I pulled back the covers and she crawled under them, smiling up at me as I pulled off my shorts and tank top, joining her back in the bed. She snuggled up against me, laying her head on my chest and I felt her eyelashes flutter against my skin. Before I knew it, her breathing was even as she fell asleep in my arms.

Sleeping, she looked so peaceful and… what was it? Content? Did I make her look that way or had I just never noticed it before? This might be my favorite Rachel incarnation yet.

To be continued...

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